


lay my weary head against your bones (where all our troubles will be dead and gone)

by rainbowroshenpower



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Chaptered, Hanahaki Disease, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sick Character, lmao pj's only in there for a quick minute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16689382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowroshenpower/pseuds/rainbowroshenpower
Summary: "The pit of Phil’s stomach felt as if it was falling out of his body and down to the center of the Earth. Dan was going to be gone, leaving Phil all alone for who-knew-how long."In which Dan and Phil are the closest of friends until Dan gets sick and his parents decide to send him away.





	lay my weary head against your bones (where all our troubles will be dead and gone)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with the full intention of completion within the pbb deadlines for 2018 but alas being in high school is difficult and time consuming. I managed to get about two thirds (11k) of the fic written, but only managed to fully edit and rewrite this first chapter. So here you go! I should be able to get the second chapter up within a week, and the third chapter about two weeks after that (hopefully?). On the plus side, this most likely means better writing for you guys because more time means more room for improvement!  
> thanks to @apricitynix for beta'ing and @danceswithsweaters for making some AMAZING art

 

 art done by @danceswithsweaters on tumblr! i can't thank you enough for the lovely piece <3

 

 

 

 

 ---

Dan coughed-- he had been coughing an awful lot lately-- and scrambled up before running into the bathroom. Phil waited a few moments before walking over and hovering near the door. 

“Are you alright Dan?” he asked, trying not to sound as concerned as he was beginning to feel. He heard the water closet flush. A moment later, Dan walked out and smiled. 

“I’m fine. Must’ve been something in the air” 

The smile was the same one Dan would put on whenever his mother handed him a coat to wear out, despite it being warm enough out to poach an egg. Phil could tell he wasn’t telling the truth, but he didn’t feel the need to press further. 

“Still fancy going out cycling?” he asked. It was what they had been planning to do before Dan had begun to cough. Dan nodded quickly, a sharp, jerky movement. The two went out to the garden. As soon as they reached the footpath, Dan made a choking sound and immediately covered his mouth. Phil stopped in his tracks. 

“Dan?”

“I’m--cough--al-alright,” he choked out from behind his hand. 

“We don’t have to go if you don’t feel you’re up to it.”

Dan glared at Phil as he removed his hand form his face.

“I said I’m alright. Don’t overreact.” 

“Sorry,” said Phil, and turned away. They continued to walk to the shed where Phil’s father had decided to have Phil’s bicycles stored so that he could go out whenever he pleased. Dan was trailing behind. Only a few moments had passed before he began to cough again. This time each expulsion of air was violent. Phil was frozen, watching his friend have what he was sure would be considered a fit now. When his lungs allowed him rest for a moment, Dan spoke.

“I have to leave.” 

“Wait, why don't we-” Phil began. Dan shook his head and pushed past him to the bicycle shed that Mikeal, the gardener, had already opened for them to go out. He grabbed the one bicycle that he always used, one that had been Phil’s a couple years ago before he had had his growth spurt, and began pedalling away. 

“Wait!” Phil called again, and jogged after him. “Dan! Are you alright? Come back!”    
He realized it was useless. Dan was already too far gone in whatever was making him want to leave to listen to Phil’s calls.    

\--- 

Phil cycled over to the Howells’ home the next day only to hear from Dan’s mother that he was unwell and refused to see visitors. He had only wanted to check up on his friend, find out what was so troubling him, but apparently Dan had requested specifically that Phil not be allowed to see him. 

“It’s a little strange,” said Mrs Howell, “He has never been so insistent on being left alone. I have no idea what could have happened to upset him so.” Her brows furrowed together as she spoke, and she kept unlacing and lacing her pale fingers together. 

Phil wasn’t so sure either. It was unlike Dan to want to be alone, and even more so when he was unwell.

“He is sick, is he not?” asked Phil. Dan’s mother nodded. Phil noticed her brown eyes were rimmed with slight pink. 

“The poor boy. He does seem to be indeed. You know, dear, come back tomorrow. I’m sure he will be up to seeing a good friend by then.” 

Phil agreed and went home, significantly more confused and worried than he had been just a day ago.  

\--- 

Phil returned the next day. The door to the Howells’ house opened practically before Phil’s knuckles had even touched the polished oak. He was greeted by Mrs Howell. 

“Hello, dear, it is nice to see you. Come in!” she ushered him inside. 

“Is Dan feeling better today?” asked Phil. Mrs Howell’s painted red lips twisted uncomfortably on her face, and a look of pity encompassed her face. 

“Oh no, I don’t think so. We’ve had a doctor come to see him and thinks there’s something wrong with his lungs. I think it would be good for him to see a friend. He has been in such poor spirits, you know,” she spoke as she lead Phil up the stairs to Dan’s room. When they reached it, Dan’s mother opened the door and prompted Phil inside. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, before exiting the room. Phil turned to Dan, who had, unbeknownst to him, been glaring at him ever since he entered to room. 

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I’m your friend, Dan,” replied Phil. 

“I don’t  _ want  _ you here.” 

“Your mother thought it would help if I came to see you. Why don’t you want me here?”

“Because you don’t understand, Phil.” 

“What don’t I understand? You had a fit and you left my house without saying goodbye. Then I came to check up on you yesterday, and your mother told me you were sick and didn’t want to see anyone. That’s unusual for you! What am I supposed to understand?”

“You don’t understand that you being here isn’t going to make be better, it’s only going to make me more sick. So if you care, it would be better if you left.” 

“I don’t know what you mean by that, Dan. I thought we were friends, and now you’re acting as if you hate me. At least tell me what’s wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sick and that’s all you need to know. Now please leave.” 

Phil stepped over to the door and opened it. Just as he was poised to leave, he turned around around instead of stepping through. If he left now, there was no knowing if Dan would be willing to see him anytime soon. When he was upset, the boy could hold grudges for years. 

“Being sick isn’t a good reason for being upset.” 

Dan rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” 

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?!” 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong, Phil? There are a million things wrong with me! Don't pretend you don’t know. You think you’d understand how I feel? Have you ever noticed, Phil, that I’m different? That I’m not like the other boys at the balls. That I’m not like _ you _ ?” spat Dan.  

Phil shook his head. He doubted whatever Dan was upset about was anything particular. The boy had a disposition wont for the dramatic. 

“Dan what makes you-”

“I fancy boys, Phil.” 

“Wh-” suddenly, several things clicked in Phil’s head: the awkwards balls at which Dan would do his best to stay out of sight of any woman who would try to get him to dance with her eligible daughter, his hesitancy when Phil pointed out the girls he thought were pretty.  

Dan’s expression was flat. “I’ve told you my truth now. You don’t understand, do you?”

“No I-” Phil stuttered. He did not know how to feel, much less what to say. 

“Of course you don’t! Sometimes I feel as if you’re the most clueless person in the damn world, Phil! Just go. Leave me alone.” 

Phil slunk out of the room, feeling somewhat both offended and ashamed. On his way out, he ran into Dan’s mother. 

“Oh, dear, I heard shouting. Did you two have a quarrel?”

Phil nodded. “I think it would be best if I left, Mrs. Howell.”

She gave him a small smile, “Phil, dear, don’t look so downtrodden. The boy’s been miserable laying there in his room so long the colour’s left his skin. He was in need of some hysteria. I’m sure he isn’t truly upset at you, don’t worry. Thank you for coming, dear,” she said, “And do tell your parents they ought to join us for tea tomorrow.” 

Phil agreed politely before scurrying away and making haste to leave Howell residence for what he felt may be the last time.  

\--- 

It was not, in fact, the last time. Phil had debated not informing his parents of the following evening’s invitation, but his conscience had prevented him. The Howells were close friends of his parents, and it was clear that they needed some emotional support with their only son being sick. Phil’s parents would be rather upset with, too, if he failed to tell them that Mrs Howell had invited them over.

Phil figured that he would simply avoid going. After all, the invitation had not explicitly been extended to him. The assumption that he would successfully realize this plan, though, was a stupid one. Phil was yielding at worst and nothing if not amiable. He told his parents that he would not like to attend tea at the Howell residence because he and Dan had had an altercation. They told him that he really ought to attend tea, anyway. That was the end of that.    

On the chaise ride over, Phil considered what had happened the day before. Dan had been upset at him before, and Phil had certainly only made it worse by arguing with him. It didn’t make sense though, why Dan was upset at Phil, and had been upset at him even before the coughing fits at Phil’s home. Phil couldn’t think of any reason for it. 

 The chaise pulled up to the Howell residence before he could mull it over any longer. Inside, Phil and parents were warmly welcomed by Mr and Mrs Howell. The five of them went and sat down in the parlour. Phil was silent while the adults exchanged pleasantries.

After the Howells’ maid, Marianne, had brought in cups of darjeeling along with biscuits, Mr Howell began to speak, “As you probably know, our son Daniel has contracted an illness.” He sighed. “Upon looking into the matter and getting advice from a doctor, we believe it would be best if Daniel were sent elsewhere to recover. We’ve heard that the air on the countryside is very conducive to recovery.” Phil choked on his breath. 

“For how long?” he asked. 

Mr Howell rubbed his chin, “We do not know yet. The boy is young and strong, the doctor said that it would not take long. He is set to leave next week.” 

Phil felt as if he had been punched in the gut. “So soon?” he asked.

Mrs Howell answered, “It’s for the best. The doctor said that the sooner we get him away from the polluted Nottingham air, the better. All the dirt and soot around here has been clogging up his lungs, the poor boy.” She looked very mournful about it. 

“The doctor said he would be good as new when he returns,” replied Mr Howell, “Where we are sending him, they have an entire facility dedicated to those with ailments of the lungs.” He seemed too enthusiastic about Dan being sent away for Phil’s taste. 

The pit of Phil’s stomach felt as if it was falling out of his body and down to the center of the Earth. Dan was going to be gone, leaving Phil all alone for who-knew-how long.  He couldn’t remember a time when he and Dan had been separated for longer than a month since they had met. The two boys had been joined at the hip ever since Dan’s family had moved into the empty house a few streets down from where Phil lived. Phil’s father had hired Dan’s as an attorney for a case; something of a matter of which Phil had never been told. They did everything together: from attending parties to lessons. Phil didn’t know if he could cope with Dan being gone. 

Phil was moping internally when his mother’s voice drew him back into the conversation. 

“Of course you would be willing to stay the week, wouldn’t you, dear?” she asked. Phil nodded, not quite aware of what he was agreeing to. 

“It’s settled then!” exclaimed Mrs. Howell. “Philip dear, we’ll have a room ready for you by tomorrow.” Phil blinked in surprise. Of course Dan’s mother would want him to stay over the week before Dan was to be sent away. She was extremely overprotective of her only son, and Phil was his closest friend, so naturally she liked to have him around as much as possible. It was evident to her that Phil made her oft brooding son a little bit happier.

\--- 

As Phil finished packing his bags the next day, he was called down by his mother on account of the coupe sent by the Howells having arrived. He hurried to find his copy of  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray _ , before rushing down the stairs and kissing his mother goodbye. 

Phil was shown to his room upon arriving at the Howell residence. The Howells’ house was not the largest by any means. It’s rooms were amply sized, but at the cost of narrow hallways.The upper floor was made up of oak, and the walls were covered in a warm brown wallpaper with an ornate design. Everything about it exuded homeliness, in Phil’s opinion.  He had visited so often since the Howells had begun living there that the Howells’ home was essentially a second home for him. 

The room Phil was staying in was one of the smaller ones. Naturally, of the several guest rooms, he had gotten the one closest to Dan’s room. He placed his bags near the wooden wardrobe that faced his bed. An hour remained until supper, and Phil didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew that Dan was in his room, but he wasn’t sure if he knew that Phil was here. If he did, he was likely upset about it.

Part of Phil wanted to know how he would react. He was curious to see if Dan was still as angry as had been when he’d seen Phil last, or if he had cooled off and come to peace with the fact that... Now that Phil thought about it, it was probably really his own self that Dan was at odds with, not Phil. Dan was uncomfortable with the fact that  _ he liked boys _ , and he couldn’t tell anybody, not really. Save Phil, of course, and even Phil wasn’t so sure how he felt about it.

He didn’t want to feel differently about Dan. That boy was his closest friend, had been his closest friend for most of his life. That wasn’t something to lose over a small quarrel...Yet, on the other hand, homosexuality was grave crime, one that could be punished by imprisonment, and if Dan was ever found...Phil didn’t let that thought go any further. He decided to push the whole ordeal to the back of his mind; somewhere he wouldn't be able to reach it, hopefully, for a long time. 

Phil decided he may as well begin getting ready for dinner. When he went down to the dining room, he found that the meal had already been laid out. The mahogany table was spread with a roasted chicken along with several vegetable dishes. Mr and Mrs Howell were already at the table. Phil took his seat across from an empty chair. 

“Marianne,” called Mrs Howell, “call Daniel down, would you.” 

She turned to Phil, “We’ve been trying to get him down to eat dinner with us, but it hasn’t worked the past few days. Although he acts like it, he the doctor said he isn’t on bedrest.” 

They all waited. It took several minutes before Dan’s footsteps were heard clicking down the steps. He was taking his time. Mr Howell cleared his throat and tapped the table. 

“How nice of you to join us, Daniel.”

Dan took his seat across the table from Phil. Phil did his best to avoid meeting his eyes.  Mrs Howell asked her husband about his day and he began droning on about his work at the law firm and a new case one of his coworkers had been assigned. Something about a man who had been caught stealing from the home of a wealthy family that had far too many details for Phil’s taste. When he looked up from his food, he found Dan seemingly absorbed in picking out the peas from his soup.  

“How has your day been, Phil? Looking forward to the next week?” asked Mrs Howell. Phil swallowed the last of the roll he had been eating. 

“I am Mrs Howell.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dan glaring at him, mouth set in an angry line. 

“Dan and I are planning to do all of our favourite things together before he leaves.” At that, Dan scoffed. 

“Sounds swell.” Mrs Howell smiled. “Daniel, dear, why don’t you tell us how your day has been?” 

Dan took his gaze off of Phil, “Fantastic, mum. I’ve only managed to cough up blood twice today.” At that, Mrs Howell looked rather troubled. 

“Daniel!” snapped Mr Howell. “Mind what you say. Especially at the dinner table, and in front of your mother.” 

“What, so now I’m not allowed to tell the truth while we’re eating dinner?” Mr Howell sighed. 

“We’re trying to do what’s best for you, Daniel. Why won’t you work with us?” cried Mrs Howell. 

“So bringing Phil over even after I told you not to is what you think is best for me? Sending me away all alone is what you think is best for me?” responded Dan. 

“Why are you so against me all of a sudden, Dan?!” snapped Phil. 

Mr Howell growled. “You should be grateful. I’m paying money to send you to one if the finest hospitals in the country! There are young men who would die were they in your condition. I’ve worked my entire life to get to a place where my son isn’t killed by a lung condition, and you’ve the nerve to be ungrateful! You have everything you could ask for.”

“Except good health, of course,” spat Dan. His eyes, which had been reddening as his father spoke, now began to spill over. Pushing away his full plate, he stood up from the table and stormed out of the room. Mr Howell sighed again and shook his head. 

Once dinner was over, Phil decided to go up to his room and read his book. Usually, when something like this happened, Phil would go after Dan, but this time he didn’t bother. Dan’s melodramatics had gotten the best of him, and it wasn’t a mess Phil wanted to deal with.  Especially not when Dan was wrongly upset at  _ Phil _ among everything else. 

 After about an hour or so, Phil heard footsteps outside of his room. Dan walked in. His eyes were lined with lashes wet with tears, and the rosy patch on his right cheek was bright scarlet. Phil gave him a once-over and went back to his book. It took only a couple of minutes for Phil to fall back into the fictional world of  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray _ . He could feel Dan’s gaze boring into him as he read. Phil figured he was upset that he hadn’t come after him;   _ good _ , he thought,  _ he ought to understand that I’m not just going to humour his melodramatics constantly.  _

A while later, Dan still hadn’t spoken. It was uncharacteristic of him to be silent for so long. 

“What’s that book about?” he asked suddenly, causing Phil to jump. Phil debated brushing the question off, but he realized that his relative silence since entering the Howell household that day had left him itching to to talk to someone. 

“Sit down and I’ll tell you,” he said, patting the spot on the sheets next to him. He told Dan of all that he had read so far, and his meditations on some of the unordinary aspects of the book. Dan in turn told him of what he had been reading the past few days, most of which he had spent alone in his room. The conversation reminded Phil of how their friendship had been when it had first begun.  

As a child, Phil had been quiet and bookish. Hours on end of his young life had been spent reading; in his room, in the garden, wherever he found comfortable space. It wasn’t something that had helped him make friends, at least not until he met Dan. They had met for the first time when Mrs Lester had brought carrot cake over as a thank you gift to the Howells. Dan had been reading a copy of  _ The Tale of Two Cities _ , and had to be prodded by his mother to introduce himself to Mrs Lester and her son. Phil had been pleasantly surprised to find someone else his age absorbed in a book, and there had asked him about it. 

Now, Phil found himself feeling glad in the same way that he had when he was younger to have Dan, who was as invested as himself in things that other had not interest in. He found himself forgiving Dan for his recent shortcomings as a friend. They talked until Phil found himself becoming sleepy. The sun had gone down long ago, and the lamp Dan had lit was beginning to flicker. He glanced at the clock to find that it was far past witching hour. 

“Mind if I blow the lamp out?” asked Phil. He saw Dan nod in the dim light, and reached over to the bedside table do so. Whatever they had been speaking about before that point was overridden by sleepiness, despite Phil’s attempts to carry on their previous conversation. It was only a few moments before he drifted off.  

The sound of coughing woke Phil up what he supposed was several hours later. He looked to his right to find Dan expelling his lungs out. His eyes were closed and he looked pained, as though he was being stabbed in the chest in his dream. Phil shook Dan by the arm. 

“Dan, are you ok?” Dan opened his eyes and coughed a couple more times. 

“Should I fetch someone?” Dan shook his head. 

He cleared his throat, “I should be in my own room.” Phil had been so caught up in the pleasantness of the conversation the last night that he hadn’t even realized that they had fallen asleep together in the guest room. Moreso, he hadn’t realized how abnormal it was. Sharing a bed with another teenage boy! Phil marveled that he was sad to see Dan go. Sleep didn’t come easy to Phil after he left. 

The following few days were rather mundane. Phil was glad that he and Dan were on friendly terms again. The week would have gone rather miserably, otherwise. They did the things they most liked to do together: going on bike rides through the city, something Phil liked a little more but had persuaded Dan to enjoy over the years; buying sweets from the small shop they often frequented; exploring the shelves of the local library.   

One evening, Dan’s parents invited the neighbouring family over for tea. These people were strangers to Phil, but Dan insisted that they were dreadfully dull. 

“We should leave before they come so you don’t have to meet them,” he insisted. Phil refused, mostly because he didn’t want to upset Dan’s parents, who he knew would be entirely opposed to the idea. 

“Haven’t you gotten in enough trouble with your parents, Dan? They’ll think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“They’ve met you before, Phil. You’re the last person that comes to mind when someone says the words ‘bad influence.’ Besides, they’re going to talk about ‘my condition’ and all, and I don’t want to be there for that.” He tugged at Phil’s arm. Yet, despite his objections, Dan and Phil ended up staying at the house for the evening.

When the guests arrived, Dan and Phil were ushered into the parlour by Dan’s mother. 

“Ah, hello Daniel and friend,” said an elderly woman wearing a pale green dress and a hat with pink flowers. Her husband beside her had on a striped grey coat. Phil thought they were both a little overdressed for afternoon tea. 

“This is Philip, Mrs. Bingham,” said Mrs Howell. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Philip,” said Mrs Bingham. 

“Uh- Nice to meet you too,” replied Phil. He heard Dan snicker under his breath beside him. 

“What?” whispered Phil, his face reddening. 

“‘Nice to meet you too,’” Dan imitated. Phil jabbed him in the stomach with his elbow. Dan only chuckled more. They were sitting close enough, luckily, that no one could see. As the adults conversed, Phil understood what Dan had been talking about. The Binghams were not rude or unseemly by any means, but they only seemed to be interested two topics: neighbourhood gossip, and Mrs Bingham’s expensive poodle. Phil began to wish that he and Dan had escaped the house before they had arrived. Suddenly he felt a voice in his ear. He jumped. 

“If she says another word about that stupid mutt I’m going to scream,” Dan whispered in Phil’s ear. Phil nodded in agreement.  

“When do you think they’ll leave?” he asked. 

“If it were up to them, never, I believe,” Dan replied. Phil sighed. Dan was leaving the next day, and this is how their final evening together was being spent. The realization made Phil mourn all the time wasted over the past week, no, more than that, the past  _ month _ , that the two of them could have spent doing exciting things together. Anything would have been better than this. 

“How’d you think they’d react if I walked out of the room right now,” murmured Dan into his ear. 

“At this point, I don’t even care,” Phil whispered back. The adults had now moved onto discussing Dan’s illness, just as the boy had predicted. 

“That’s absolutely terrible!” Mrs Bingham was remarking. 

“Such a pity! Something similar happened to my nephew last year,” added Mr Bingham. Dan rolled his eyes. 

“People act like it’s a game, ‘who can show the most sympathy to the poor ill boy.’” he whispered. 

“I don’t think they know what else to do,” replied Phil.

“I just- I don’t understand why they have to make such a big deal out of it. I’m sick, so what? It’s not like…” he trailed off, “It’s just a cough.” 

Marianne brought in cups of tea with cucumber sandwiches and digestive biscuits. She made sure to give a cup to Dan sweetened with extra honey before she left. Dan sighed. 

“They’re worried about you, Dan. I don’t blame them,” said Phil. Dan’s complexion had paled even over the week that Phil had been with him, and the space under his eyes was bruised. Even more, his cheeks were sinking in. Phil was pretty sure he had lost weight. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure about what Mr Howell had said earlier about Dan coming back fine.         

“Don’t you start too, Phil,” complained Dan. 

“Alright, alright, I won’t say any more about it,” said Phil, and pushed away the worry that was beginning to gnaw at his brain. 

By the time the Binghams left, there was hardly any remaining time for Dan and Phil to go around town for the last time before he left. Dan seemed drained, anyhow. Instead, the two of them decided to watch the the sunset from the Howells’ garden. It was a pleasant way to spend the evening. Still, Phil regretted that they hadn’t been able to  _ go _ somewhere. 

In any case, it was their last evening together, and Phil figured he ought to enjoy what they had left. The sky was changing colours; going from peach to magenta to crimson, the sun a shining drop of gold melting into the horizon. Even with the neighbouring houses shadowing their view, it was a breathtaking sight. Phil looked beside him to see the sunset reflected on softly on Dan’s face. The light was illuminating his dark eyes, melting them into pools of amber. Phil’s gaze trailed down his nose to the freckles on his cheek, right next to where a dimple would form whenever he smiled. Dan coughed. 

Phil realized he had been staring. His heart fluttered painfully in his chest for a moment, and he tore his gaze away. The sun had sunk down under the horizon. All that was left now was the iridescent afterglow of the clouds. Yet neither of them made any move to go back inside. 

“Would you...do you want to stay and stargaze with me for a little, Phil?” 

“I...would enjoy that.” As the sky darkened, the air around them grew cooler. 

“Are you sure you’re not getting cold, Dan?” 

“Nope...I’m alright,” said Dan, as he shimmied closer to Phil. Phil furrowed his brow but let it be. The first stars had begun to appear in the sky. Phil pointed out the North Star. 

“There’s the Big Dipper, too,” he said reaching his arm out towards the sky and tracing the constellation. They lay in companionable silence as more stars began to appear. The night grew colder, still. The sky was nearly pitch-black.  

“Do you think Marianne will be out to fetch us soon?”  

“If she does, we’ll ignore her.”

Phil giggled even though it wasn’t particularly funny, “Alright.” It had gotten so dark that Phil could hardly see Dan beside him, save for his eyes shining in the moonlight. He turned his gaze back up to the stars. 

All of a sudden, Phil felt Dan’s hand cross the space between them and graze his. He then began to enlace their fingers together. A shock went up his spine, and Phil froze. Half-formed thoughts raced through his head, none of them fully materializing.  _ Whatishedoingwhatishedoingwhatdoesthismean _ . Phil jerked his hand away before letting himself think anything else of it. 

“I-I’m sorry,” stuttered Dan. 

“I’m not--that’s not me, Dan. That--it’s not,” tried Phil, “Please--just don’t--I could never...it’s not right. I’m going inside. To bed. Goodnight,” he flustered, and scrambled up from where he had been laying. 

Phil practically sprinted inside. He didn’t know how to feel, didn’t know what to think. Instead of thinking about it, he did the best to ignore what had happened and go to sleep. 

\---

The next morning Phil, although he had tried to push what had happened the last night out of his mind, realized that it was of no use, since Dan probably wouldn’t do the same. Dan was someone who remembered every detail of everything that happened to him, from the girl who had stolen his wooden horse figurine when he was five, to the boy in their school class who had called him ‘effeminate’ as a taunt two years ago. 

It didn’t matter to Phil that Dan was probably upset.  _ Dan _ was the one who had pushed himself onto Phil. If there was any apology to be made, it was he who ought to be making it. Phil hadn’t done anything wrong; he wasn’t the one who had tried to make an unwanted romantic move on his friend. It appalled him that Dan had had the audacity to assume that Phil would  _ want  _ something like that. Phil wasn’t-- he couldn’t be-- like Dan. He  _ didn't want _ Dan to be interested in him like that. Realistically, he wasn’t anyway. They were teenagers, after all, and Phil was the closest boy available. 

As luck would have it, Dan was in his room packing up the last of his possessions when Phil went to eat breakfast. It was already ten o’clock when Phil reached the breakfast table, and Dan was set to leave at noon. After finishing his breakfast. Phil figured he ought to start packing as well. There was no point in him staying at the Howells’ for any time once Dan had gone. 

When it neared noon. Phil went to downstairs to the foyer. Dan stood near the door while his belongings were packed into the coupe that waited outside. He was staring at the driver through the window, stare hollow and morose. 

“I- I’ll write you, Dan,” Phil stuttered. 

Dan turned his head in Phil’s direction. Phil saw now that his eyes were glazed, and he seemed to be looking through him rather than at him.  

“Right. Yes, do that.” The way he said it made Phil’s stomach twist. He hadn’t thought Dan’s leaving would be this bad. They stood like that for a few moments before a voice called Dan outside. Phil trailed behind him as he walked out the door. Dan’s mother and father were already standing near the coupe. His father was speaking to the driver while his mother enveloped him into her arms. Tears began to leak out of her eyes. They fell onto Dan’s shoulder, soaking his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, mum,” he said, voice heavy. 

“Oh, Dan,” she cried, “come back well.” 

After what seemed like ages, she detached herself from him and uselessly wiped under her eyes. Dan’s father gave him a brief hug before letting go and saying,

“Take care of yourself, son.” Dan nodded. His face was somber, as if he was walking to a funeral. He turned to Phil who was standing near the door and tipped his head to the side. Phil felt as if here was a vacuum in his heart trying to swallow him whole. He opened his mouth to say something,  _ anything _ , before Dan left. No sound came out. Dan turned around and stepped up into the coupe. 

Phil realized, suddenly, how small Dan looked. Phil stepped out from the doorway onto the lawn next to Mr and Mrs Howell as the vehicle started to move. Dan was staring to where his parents and Phil stood. Phil waved. Dan, a morose look on his face, moved his hand in response. With that, he was gone. 

He was gone.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
